


Imbolc

by GwynCat



Series: Turning of the Wheel [3]
Category: Dearg Dorcha, Original Work
Genre: Dearg Dorcha - Fandom, F/F, Imbolc 2020, Multi, Pagan Festivals, Side Story, amateur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:22:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwynCat/pseuds/GwynCat
Summary: Piseag - Kitten ( Scottish )
Relationships: Morag x Emer x Guinevere
Series: Turning of the Wheel [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585492
Collections: Dearg Dorcha





	Imbolc

Emer rushed into the cabin, carrying an armful of branches and tall grass. She slammed it down on the kitchen table waking Morag who had been dozing off.

" Huh- what?"

Emer wiped her forehead

"Hey honey."

Morag looked between the pitiful pile of twigs and grass and her mate.

"The [Brídeóg](https://www.google.com/search?q=Br%C3%ADde%C3%B3g&rlz=1C1SQJL_enUS865US865&sxsrf=ALeKk03TLpLJMeafIdMc_T1007uPtUvIhw:1593289695063&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi4jrHS6qLqAhVrdt8KHZY1BkMQ_AUoAXoECA4QAw&biw=1366&bih=625)? "

" umm-hmmm"

Emer walks to the window to open it. Morag looked between her mate and the twig pile. 

" How long do I have? "

The Medic peers out the window, frowning when she sees the bright blue sky. 

" Not sure... "

"... It's sunny isnnae it. "

Emer nodded sadly

"Winter's here to stay for a few more weeks. "

"Greeeattt. Few more weeks with nothin' but rabbits an' crows."

Emer looked at her in bewilderment 

" I thought those were hens."

" ... "

"What?"

Morag rolled her eyes, the differences in their knowledge made them selves known

" Nothin'. "

The Warrior yawned, stretching her arms. She gestured toward the twig pile briefly forgotten by the two. 

" Are ye goin' to do somethin' wit' that?"

" The Biddy Doll."

" Wha' ? "

" The Bredog? Bredaog?"

" Brídeóg."

" Yes. That. I'll never understand your language."

Morag smirked 

" Alright Piseag~"

The medic stuck her tongue,glaring at her mate. She looked sadly at the pathetic stick pile she hastily grabbed on her way to the cabin. Emer sighed picking up a twig and began to map out the doll's figure, going into a daze. 

Morag watched for a second before breaking the silence and her mate's trance. 

" oh? Startin' wit' out them? "

Emer looked up

" oh? "

She looked back at the 'doll ' on the table. 

" oh. Hmm, well, they're not here, I might as well plan the doll. "

She wrung her apron in her hands. Emer got antsy when she got bored. 

Morag rolled her eyes

" You could start on the feast? Or at least make snacks. "

" That's a good idea. "

Emer muttered to her self her mind coming up with Clootie dumplings and heather short bread. She quickly walked to the kitchen and began setting up. 

Morag got up from her seat and walked out the door. Wanting to see what taking her other mate Guinevere so long to round up Maebh and Róisín. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piseag - Kitten ( Scottish )


End file.
